


Halloween Mischief

by DistractedDream



Series: Happiness is a Long Shot Universe [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Conspireshipping, Deathshipping, Drabble, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: The Conspire boys celebrate Halloween.





	Halloween Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks to my wonderful beta, SerenityXStar!
> 
> This is a short story that SerenityXStar prompted me with for Halloween this year. It takes place within my "Happiness is a Long Shot" verse.
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

"Come on, Bakura!" Marik's grip on Bakura's arm meant he really had no choice but to follow. Around them, kids squealed and fake animatronic butlers welcomed them to a house of horrors. Or so it said. To Bakura, it was yet another overly bright retail space, jam-packed with far too much stuff. Yet Marik grinned brightly as though this was another adventure and Bakura heaved a sigh because it probably was.

Marik flitted from display to display until he found a wall of adult costumes. "I don't understand why you don't simply let Ryou make you an outfit." Ryou was making costumes for Ishtar and himself already, but Bakura still offered Ryou's services. "He could make you anything you wanted."

"I want the experience!" The blonde held up a plastic package with a bloodied doctor on the front and shook his head. Costume after costume came down, Marik rejecting all of them.

Bakura idly looked at the wigs nearby. "You want to experience cheap poly blend materials on your skin? Why, Marik, you're almost behaving like a commoner, like the rest of us." Marik narrowed his eyes at his partner and Bakura hid his chuckling behind a coughing fit.

"You're such an ass," Marik mumbled, poking at the costumes with less enthusiasm. Ryou could make him something better, but he didn't know what he wanted and felt bad asking Ryou to help. So shopping for a costume seemed like a fun option, if only Bakura wasn't being a jerk.

Familiar arms draped over his shoulders, Bakura nosing at his ear. "You love my ass. I'm sorry; this has just never been my thing." He kissed Marik's shoulder. "After so many years with Zorc, it takes more than fake blood and a mask to frighten me." That wasn't quite the reason he didn't care for All Hallows' Eve, but being out in public wasn't the time to get into it. "What about that one? It comes with a cape. It looks better than the others."

Marik pulled the package off the wall, turning it over. "Yeah, alright. But we have to find you a ghost costume." He turned in Bakura's arms, stealing a quick kiss. "A sexy ghost!"

"Marik..." Bakura groaned as Marik slipped away. "Marik, no."

 

* * *

"It's a shame you can't use Shadow magic to take off your head again. I bet that was amazing!" Ryou raised his voice over the hum of his sewing machine, working the fabric of his costume through it. "Kaiba probably has pictures from his surveillance cameras. Wonder if he'd let me see."

Ishtar stretched out over the sofa, flipping through one of Bakura's mangas. "At least I wouldn't have Marik screaming in the back of my mind this time."

The machine halted, Ryou's eyes huge. "Oh. Yes, I'm sure he didn't appreciate that, did he?" He refocused on his work, the straight line of the seam falling into place with the stitches. "That almost makes getting stabbed seem quaint." Ishtar didn't answer; he hated Ryou's scars, hated why he had them, more than he hated his own. "What do you think they'll pick for their costumes?"

"Knowing Marik? Something gaudy," Ishtar replied, letting his head fall over the back of the sofa arm to watch Ryou work. "Stupid to buy something. Between all of us, he could have pieced together a costume."

"It's not Marik I'm worried about." Ryou pulled out the cloth and pulled the setting pins free. "'Kura has never liked Halloween. Even when I was a kid. I hope he plays along, at least for Marik's sake." He shook out the fabric and held it up to the light. "How's it looking?"

"Needs more straps, _fa’r_ , unless you want me to break out of it."

 

* * *

Marik fluffed his hair and sashayed down the hall, the black poly-blend cape flaring out behind him. He'd gone heavy on the kohl, making his cheekbones seem sharper, his eyes more vibrant for the dark liner around them. Ryou had offered to add some faux blood to his makeup, Ishtar had offered the real thing, but he'd declined, not wanting to look messy. Bakura had stolen him a pair of fangs and he grinned, feeling them push against his lower lip. A low-slung pair of black leather motorcycle pants, his boots, and the red vest from the costume completed the look, several inches of dark skin visible at his hips when the cloak fell behind him. Red wasn't really his color, but Ryou assured him it was a good color for vampires.

He peeked out into the living room where Bakura stood fussing with his costume. Gray and white "rags" hung from his limbs, indistinguishable from the deconstructed shirt and pants he wore. His platinum hair had been brushed out of its usual spikes, falling soft around his face and shoulders, almost floating when he walked. Ryou had done his makeup, leaving off the black liner and emphasizing the darkness around his eyes, making him look even more haunted than usual. His head snapped up as Marik entered, eyes locking onto him.

"You look ethereal," Marik said. Bakura's cinnamon eyes traveled slowly down Marik's body and back up and Marik found himself grinning, fangs flashing. He flung the cape out for effect. "Do you like?"

Bakura's eyes bounced from his bare midriff to the teeth and back and then back again. By no rights should Marik have looked that good in half a cheap vampire costume. Yet he did and Bakura barely kept himself from drooling. He cleared his throat. "If I weren't dead, I might offer you my blood."

Marik's heart beat faster as Bakura slunk closer. "Wouldn't you want to be turned? To spend eternity together rather than just being a one night bite?" He reached out, black lacquered nails stark against Bakura's white flesh as he caressed his neck. Marik rubbed his thumb over Bakura's pulse point, watching in fascination when Bakura tipped his head over in offering. He leaned in easily, Marik guiding him by the back of his neck. His breath heated Bakura's cooler skin and Marik could feel his pulse jump under his lips. "You'd let me, wouldn't you? Make you a monster so we would be together forever." Marik scraped his fangs up his throat, rewarded when Bakura clung to his arms, shivering.

Before he could answer, Ishtar and Ryou joined them, Ryou clicking his tongue. "We'll never get out the door if you two start this already." He wedged a hand between them, pulling Bakura out of Marik's thrall. "Damn, Marik. You're hot. Spin for us so Ishtar can see." Color flushed Marik's cheeks, aroused from toying with Bakura, but he turned on his heel to face Ishtar - only to trip over his cape as he jumped, startled at the sight of his near twin.

Ryou giggled as Bakura tensed next to him, clearly in the fight part of a fight or flight response to fear. Ishtar twisted his head and grinned overly wide at them. Veins stood out along his neck and temples, his hair matted at the scalp before being arranged into pinprick sharp points around his head. His lips looked dry, cracked and bleeding, dirt and more fake blood splattered over his cheeks. The mess continued down to the straightjacket wrapped around him, the fabric worn and ripped, but secure in the aged leather bindings stretched over his arms and around his back. Ryou hadn't allowed him any give when binding him and he used it to his advantage, his flexing muscles straining the cloth as though he might break free and wreak havoc upon them.

The smile was the most disconcerting and Marik pivoted so he didn't have to look. "Aw, don't turn away from me, _nafsi_. Why don't you make me immortal too?" Ishtar's shoes flopped as he walked, the shoelaces removed. He propped his chin on Marik's shoulder with a sick grin, his bound arms pressing into Marik's back. Bakura rationally knew Marik was safe, but he still found himself wishing his costume had a spot for a knife.

A touch on his shoulder distracted him, Ryou moving between them to attract their attention, pulling his mask into place. "If I'd known it only took a few stage props to impress you, I wouldn't have tried so hard." He was covered in black, his fine hair twisted back into a braid, black feathers, ribbon, and lace enmeshed in the white strands. A delicate black feather mask ended in a beak over his nose and mouth, obscuring his features, black sclera contacts hiding his eyes. Longer feathers adorned his shoulders and wrists, ribbon and lace adding to the avian effect. A corset bound his chest and waist, black feathers spreading up almost to his collarbones and over his slim hips. Black velvet tights in almost a reptilian pattern disappeared into soft leather shoes that started at his ankles. Anywhere skin might have been visible had been painted black, from his fingertips to his face. Around his neck, the smallest rhinestones glinted, hung on filament so fine, it disappeared against the black paint. Ryou smirk behind his mask, knowing he'd captured their attention. He pulled two large black fans from his corset, snapping them open and closed, the sound like flapping wings.

Bakura recovered first. "Holy shit, Ryou."

"Damn," Marik intelligently added.

Ishtar straightened from behind Marik, padding over to nose carefully at Ryou's mask. "Can we go out now? I'm hungry."

 

* * *

Tucked away in a dark booth, Bakura tried not to scowl at all the festivities. It was a mockery of celebrations modern society had forgotten and he didn't like it. He put on a smile for Marik, but Marik was pressed against Ishtar on the dance floor right now so Bakura didn't have to pretend. Ryou flopped down next to him, fanning himself off. He didn't have to ask why Bakura wasn't dancing. He leaned closer, feathers tickling Bakura's skin. "You should at least tell him." Bakura cut his eyes to his former host. "He doesn't know but he'd probably understand. He may have grown up-"

"No," Bakura cut him off. "He deserves to enjoy his first proper Halloween." He pushed a bottle of water to Ryou, trying to change the subject. "Your eyes look freaky like that."

Ryou grinned sharply. "I know. And I know you like it." Bakura snorted but didn't deny it. Ryou tipped his mask up, kissing his cheek. "Thank you for coming out. It means a lot to me."

Bakura scrunched up his nose, ignoring his words. "Did you get black paint on me?"

Bubbly laughter carried over the bar's music. "It goes with the red on your neck. You know, Marik could wait until we get home to suck you dry," he teased. Bakura swatted at him. "It's been harder to get served tonight. They're usually better about it."

"Did you actually see your boyfriend?!" Bakura gestured to the floor, where even among the crowd, people kept their distance from Ishtar and his grin. Somehow, Marik had squirmed under his arms, smiling as Ishtar whispered in his ear. "He looks like he's going to eat Marik for a midnight snack and expect him to like it."

"Bakura!" Ryou gasped. "Who told you about vore?" He giggled, feeling a little tipsy, as Bakura rolled his eyes. "He does crazy well, doesn't he? Crazy hot," he nudged Bakura, dissolving into another giggle fit.

"Yeah, yeah." He wrapped his arm around Ryou's waist, squeezing him. "Just tell me when we can go home."

 

* * *

Bakura sat on the bed, legs crossed, his skin pink after scrubbing the makeup off. In the living room, he could see the flickering of the TV screen and hear the hushed voices of his lovers as they watched a movie. Part of him wanted to join them but he stayed staring at his hands.

"Hey." Marik's soft voice caught his attention, the bedside lamp glinting off his gold. He'd cleaned up as well and Bakura almost missed the flash of skin that the costume had afforded. The bed shifted as Marik sat next to him, brushing his hair back. "You really don't like Halloween, do you?"

He scoffed. "I tried. I got dressed up and went out tonight, didn't I? I get credit for trying. Ryou says so."

Marik smiled softly, stretching out on the bed and tugging Bakura into his arms. "You totally get credit. But will you tell me why? It's just a silly modern custom."

"It's not." Bakura groaned, fingers caressing Marik's collar. "It is but it has roots in old festivals. I don't need pumpkins and monsters and ghosts and dead and dark things. I lived with all of that three thousand years ago. Actually lived it, not play-pretend. Well, except the pumpkins. We didn't have those." Marik stroked his hair, letting him talk. "I grew up with the ghosts of Kul Elna screaming for vengeance. To see people using them as props or jokes..."

Marik kissed his forehead. "And I asked you to be a ghost. I'm sorry, habibi."

He shrugged. "The night wasn’t completely bad. Your costume was really hot. Much hotter looking than it should have been."

"Oh? Want me to go put it back on?" Marik smirked, lifting his head and shoulders like he was getting up.

To his surprise, Bakura pushed him up. "No need to do all that. Just get the teeth." Marik chuckled as he got up, heading back to the bathroom where he'd left the fangs. Bakura stripped, kicking the covers off. Maybe Halloween wasn't such a bad night after all...


End file.
